Don't you have anything BLACK?

I was asked to sing at a funeral. During our two practices, I was accused of looking like a Froot Loop and fruit salad. (This is because of my colorful clothes, in case you were wondering.) The ladies were discussing wearing black or gray to sing the actual song because it's a funeral.
Okay, herein lies an inherent thought process difference. I don't care if I wear bright colors to a funeral. I don't think it's disrespectful in the least. I mean, has the person who died gone on to a better place or not? If so, then let's send them off with color, why don't we?
Anyway, back to the singing ladies' discussion, as they were talking I had my eyes fixed firmly to the ceiling, contemplating the clothes in my closet. I was interrupted by one of the ladies asking, "Shirley, do you even HAVE anything black?"
Startled, I met her eyes. "Well, the last time I went to DI, Michael talked me into buying a black velvet jumper because it felt soft, but it has rhinestone sparkles on the straps and I can only wear it on Fast Sunday because it's a little tight across the tummy."
She rolled her eyes, "Oh, Shirley!"
Hey, I'm volunteering to sing from the kindness of my heart, and I can sing the same in fruit salad or black velvet!

Singing to Youtube

Three nights ago, it was just Bob, Michael, and me at home. We watched "27 Dresses" which has a memorable barroom rendition of "Benny and the Jets" by Elton John. So we looked it up on the Internet, on Youtube, a version with words, and I started singing along. (If you've never looked them up, I'll tell ya, there are some weird words.) Then Bob started singing along (okay, anyone who knows Bob can pick themselves up off the floor now) then Michael started singing along, even though he didn't know what a lot of the words meant.
As I sat there blubbering "B-B-B-Benny and the Jetssssss" I had the vision of an old-timey family gathered around the piano in song. Well, we had the gathering part right, but the piano was replaced by a computer. Hey, it's all about togetherness.

Sing It With Gusto

Bob and I just got back from the obligatory elementary school Christmas program. There's nothing wrong with music, but it's easier to take while I'm working on something else. Life seems to be all about multi-tasking these days, more's the pity. But we were being good parents, going out in the cold, dark night to see our son sing a Christmas song.
While waiting for the 3rd grade's turn, we were delighted to hear "Blue Christmas" belted out by a bunch of preschoolers that couldn't have been more than knee-high, clutching paper guitars and swaying in their neon plastic sunglasses. Their voices filled the college gymnasium with energy, happiness, and enthusiasm. Bob even put his book down to watch and listen. Several chuckles from the audience punctuated the lively performance.
I had expected to merely endure the program with good grace, but with a beginning like that, I couldn't help but smile through the whole thing. Thanks to a bunch of elves in disguise, my Christmas season was better than before I braved the dark and cold.
So even if you don't have little ones in it, go see an elementary school Christmas program. It will be worth it.